


Connected

by prototyping



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Dollars arc ending spoilers, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Slight Angst?, Spoilers, by the way there are spoilers, character profile, genfic, guilt trips ftw, this fandom needs more gen, volume 13 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2198937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a message can only get through when it's heard in the right voice. Mikado, Saki. Dollars arc ending spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connected

**Author's Note:**

> As this was written prior to the season 2 debut, all my post-s1 canon knowledge stems from what novel translations I was able to gather online. That said, there's obviously a chance that I overlooked a fact or two which may contradict certain details of this fic -- i.e., I'm assuming Mikado doesn't know/remember Saki's last name. If the anime later proves me wrong, eh well.
> 
> And, again, this features spoilers from volume 13 -- a.k.a. the end of the Dollars arc, a.k.a. the end of season 2 (or maybe even 3, depending on how long it stretches out). You've been warned!

It was the most peaceful rest Mikado had managed in a while, or at least what felt like a while. When he awoke, it was still to aches all over and painful fluorescent lights, but it was bearable, and he actually felt decently rested. More than that, this time he managed to remember right away where he was and why.

His sense of smell picked up first, detecting chlorine and that other cleaner that hospitals always seemed to use too heavily. Hearing came next, although all he really noticed was the silence: he'd been taken off the monitoring equipment previously, having stabilized enough that his life was no longer in danger. He'd overheard the doctor telling his parents that.

As he squinted against the light and waited for his eyes to adjust, it occurred to him that it was an oddly calm thought. He'd nearly died. Twice in one night. In both cases, he only lived because someone else -- someone who cared about him -- had been fast enough to beat the odds.

He suppressed a shudder, knowing it would only agitate his wounds, but the thought still lingered cold and dark on the edge of his mind. The sight of the familiar, white-washed room was a welcome distraction, as little as it had to show: the bed he lay in, sheets drawn up to his chest; bare walls, a single window and door, the bedside chairs that usually bore his visitors. Mikado was actually surprised to see that Masaomi and Anri weren't present. He hadn't been awake much since being admitted, but they'd been there every time he opened his eyes. Or maybe he'd just dreamt some of that. He hadn't seen Aoba since that night, but part of Mikado was already resigned to the possibility of never seeing him again; he felt no particular sadness over it.

Today, however, it was a different face that awaited him -- an unfamiliar face. No, he realized, that wasn't right. It was familiar, just... new. For about a minute he said nothing, watching the profile of the teenage girl who sat close by, barely out of arm's reach: his age, short hair, narrow eyes, and a vague, distracted smile as she stared out the window.

Thankfully, Mikado was spared the awkward problem of speaking up first, because she caught his stare and looked over. "Ah! You're awake already." Despite that, she didn't seem all that surprised. That smile of hers did brighten, however. "That's no good."

For a moment Mikado could only continue to stare, sleep and lingering painkillers and general confusion hindering a coherent answer.

"Um..." he managed finally. "Sorry...?" Something about the way his mouth moved felt off somehow, and then he recalled that the... oxygen mask, breathing apparatus, whatever it was called, he couldn't remember right then -- it was gone, too, no longer pressing down around his nose and mouth. His voice still sounded slightly rough and a little too weak, but it was audible.

The girl blinked, but that smile only disappeared for about a quarter-second before returning, this time with a gentle laugh. "I didn't mean it like that. Masaomi's just been looking forward to officially introducing us." She leaned forward in her seat a bit, tilting her head in almost playful consideration. "Well, I know your name, Ryuugamine Mikado-kun, but you probably don't know mine, right?"

Masaomi... Ah, right... this girl was...

... _Saki._

Her first name was all he remembered, but that wasn't enough to (politely) recite, so Mikado slowly and carefully shook his head once. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Saki's expression turned somewhat knowing, and then she mirrored the gesture. "You shouldn't apologize so much. You'll make me feel guilty and I'll end up apologizing, too -- and you're probably nice enough that you'd just feel even guiltier. And then I'll have to apologize to Masaomi for making you feel bad when you should be getting better."

"Ah, no... I'm s--" Mikado caught himself, paused, and then looked down, feeling more confused and awkward by the second. "Um... right. But... you're Masaomi's..."

Saki didn't respond, as if waiting for Mikado to finish the thought. When he didn't, she just shrugged a shoulder in a casual what-can-ya-do manner. "Mmm, I'm going to let him do the introduction like he wanted. But if it's easier for you, you can call me whatever you like until then! Just make sure you don't keep using it after that -- my name's not as unique as yours, but I still like it."

Again, Mikado stared at her, now more taken aback than before. This was Masaomi's girlfriend, he was positive -- he just didn't expect her to be so...

... _fitting._

Then again, only a girl with Masaomi's sense of humor could probably get along with him well enough to date him.

"Th-That's... okay. Um... so Masaomi's not here?"

"He should be soon." Saki glanced sidelong at the clock on the wall. "He had something to take care of, so I told him I'd wait for him here."

Mikado's head remained cloudy and heavy and a little sore, but that only delayed his deduction by a few seconds. "He... wanted you to watch me, didn't he?"

This time Saki's smile seemed to take on a shade of approval. "I don't think he minds. Especially since Sonohara-san was with you before I got here; they don't usually leave you alone."

It stung to hear that, a little. Everything Mikado had done and put them through, and they were still watching over him while he was helpless. Looking at Saki again, he inquired, "Do you... know how long it's been? Since I was brought here?" It bugged him, not having a name to address her by, but he didn't push for one.

"Almost a week," she replied. "Six days, I think." At Mikado's startled expression, she explained, "You took a while to wake up at first. And last night was the last time they saw you awake -- it's almost noon now."

Six days... That was more than what anyone -- his friends, his parents, the nurse -- had managed to tell him during his brief lucid moments. That meant he'd been out for at least several days after getting hurt, but that wasn't surprising when he considered how much worse it could have been. His memories of that moment were still groggy, more pain and shadows than pictures, but Mikado remembered enough: Nasujima, the knife, confusion, movement, a dull pain followed quickly by burning anguish, and then darkness. As fast as everything had been in that moment, he could put enough of it together now to have a basic idea of what happened. "Basic," because he still had no idea why it had happened in the first place. Chances were that only Anri could fully explain, if anyone could.

Saki didn't try to break him from his thoughts, even when the silence stretched into a couple minutes. Mikado eventually snapped himself out of them, and by then he was feeling more awake than he had in days. He tested that by trying to sit up, only to immediately cringe and gasp. Pain rippled over and through his sides and stomach, those stitched wounds and his muscles soft with lack of use sharply protesting. He didn't notice Saki getting to her feet.

"Careful, Ryuugamine-kun, I'll call the nurse--"

"No." He was propped on his elbow, sweat already breaking out on his forehead, but his response was solid. As tempting as it was to lie back down and give up, something surprisingly close to pride made him refuse. As useless as he'd been for the past week... no, longer than that -- he could at least do this much without bothering anyone else. He was weak in a lot of ways, he knew, but he didn't have to be a total burden. "N-No," he repeated, gentler, "please don't... I'm fine."

That probably sounded as convincing as it looked, which was not at all. Grinding his teeth, Mikado hissed as he moved again, gradually forcing himself up. Saki lingered where she was, watching and somehow hesitant, but Mikado ignored her, all of his attention on moving and not passing out. Tears of pain stung his eyes, but he kept at it, and what felt like an hour later he was finally upright enough to shift backwards a little.

Saki did move, then: silently, she took his pillow and straightened it behind him, adding some needed leverage between Mikado's back and the wall. As soon as he leaned back and let out a heavy sigh, she retreated to her seat. She let him gather himself and get comfortable before speaking up again.

"Ne, you're tougher than you look, Ryuugamine-kun."

He didn't respond right away, still a bit breathless from the exertion and lingering aches. "Masaomi didn't mention that," she went on, returning to her neutral smile once more. "He said you were always a crybaby growing up."

Once his breathing had evened out, Mikado reached for the glass of water on his bedside table. "Did he... say a lot of things about me?" The cup was lukewarm and nearly empty. Saki beat him to any other stupid attempt he might make, taking it upon herself to pick up the pitcher and refresh his drink. After he thanked her, she looked up at the ceiling in thought.

"Mm," she confirmed. "He talked about you a lot, in the past. Actually, you're different than what I expected." She swirled the pitcher absently in her hands, the ice clinking softly. "Definitely polite and quiet. But he said you're pretty terrible around girls, so I was afraid you'd be uncomfortable with just me here."

Mikado had finished swallowing his mouthful of water, which was fortunate; he likely would have choked at that comment, and a coughing fit was not something he cared to experience when his sides already felt like pins and needles. Instead he made an uncertain, dissatisfied noise and glanced aside. "He... would say something like that."

Saki gave a knowing hum. "I figured he was exaggerating that part. Or--" She looked sidelong at him. "--maybe I'm just not girly enough for you?"

Mikado started, but any jabs of pain were overshadowed by panic. "N-No! That's not -- I just--" He spluttered into silence as Saki laughed again. Not too surprisingly, the vague pang of annoyance he felt was akin to the kind Masaomi usually incited: a weary but fond kind of impatience. Maybe it was because she reminded him so much of his best friend, but Mikado couldn't deny that he already kind of liked her. Although, similarities aside... it was actually nice to have the company of someone he didn't know that well.

Not that he hadn't been glad to see his friends and family, or didn't already miss them now, but Mikado still had a lot of mixed emotions around them. Happiness and relief, yes, but also uncertainty, guilt, self-reproach, and an overall sadness because of those. Thanks to his fatigue, he and his friends hadn't had the chance to really _talk_ yet, and while he knew it had to be done and even looked forward to getting it all off his chest at long last... he was a little scared, too.

His conversation with Saki just now was more along the vein of Normal -- real, appreciated normal, as if Mikado had been allowed to rewind time by a year and briefly forget about everything that was eating at him.

At least, he'd been able to at first. Now, watching Saki resume her seat as dark memories stumbled over each other in his increasingly clear memory, Mikado felt that same guilt trickling in. He dropped his gaze, frowning.

"...You... You're mad at me, aren't you?" He saw her focus on him, but he didn't look over yet. "Not... You don't sound like it, but... you have every right to be. I would be, I think."

Silence hung between them again. Just as it was about to become awkward, Saki asked in a casually curious tone, "Why would I be?"

Mikado quickly looked up. She was still smiling that easy smile, and he couldn't tell why. Was she playing dumb to be nice? Did she want him to say it? Had Masaomi said something to her? Or did she actually, somehow not hold anything against him? Either way, her easy response and unreadable expression... it reminded him a lot of Masaomi, too.

Or Izaya.

Mikado stared down at his sheets again. His hands were bruised both back and front, his knuckles scabbed in a couple places. There was still an IV running from his arm, although he couldn't feel it. He could only guess how his face and torso looked.

The words were in his head, but speaking them took much more effort than choosing them. "I... Masaomi was... involved, because of me. He was hurt." His voice fell at that last statement, but he raised it again, and it cracked. "I hurt him. I..." _...could have killed him._

He didn't want to cry, especially not in front of a stranger and least of all in front of his best friend's girlfriend, but his already constricted chest felt even tighter. It was taking everything he had -- which wasn't much at the moment -- to refrain.

Mikado couldn't see it with his eyes downcast, but Saki was watching him, motionless, her smile now totally absent. Others would be uncomfortable at that obvious break of emotion, particularly from a boy they barely knew, but she didn't look away. If he did cry, she wouldn't think any less of him -- and truth be told, she thought more of him than he probably knew -- but she preferred to prevent that, if she could. He'd clearly been through enough already.

"You were hurt, too," she pointed out.

"But... this wasn't..."

"I don't think it matters whose fault it was, Ryuugamine-kun. You both got hurt, and you're both worried about each other... Isn't that fair enough?" She met his blank stare with another light smile. "We can't change it. So if I were you... no, let's say I'm Masaomi. If I were him, I'd be glad that you weren't hurt worse... but I'd be feeling pretty bad about it, too, in my own way." This was Masaomi they were talking about, after all.

Mikado's eyes narrowed distractedly in thought for a moment, but he caught on. "...He does?" His thin shoulders sagged a little at that. "...But... you still only mentioned Masaomi," he quickly noted, meeting her gaze again. "Not..."

"Me?" Saki finished. Her smile turned a little crooked as Mikado nodded. He was a stubborn one... Were all gang leaders like this? Or was Masaomi not quite one-of-a-kind, after all? Laughing inwardly at her own joke, Saki shook her head once. "Hm-mm. I'm not mad at you, Ryuugamine-kun. Actually... I'm glad I can talk to you alone. I wanted to say thanks."

He blinked. "Th... Thanks? Why..."

"Masaomi was really depressed without you two around," she said more seriously, her smile at its smallest. "I tried to make him happy, but I couldn't do it all." _I'm not enough._ It was simple fact, and it didn't really bother her. It was what it was, as she'd told Masaomi once, and she would support him in whatever kept him happy and the two of them together. "He needs you, too. Even if he blames himself for some of this... this is still the happiest I've seen him in a long time. So I'm glad everything worked out." If it hadn't... even if Masaomi had come out of it all right, she might have lost him a second time all the same. He really loved his best friend; that had been obvious for a long time. If anything worse had happened to Mikado...

Even now, Saki remembered those horrible, confusing moments after Mikado had been attacked: the way he'd just collapsed and gone still. Anri's scream. Masaomi seeming to go utterly blank with shock for a half-second that felt like forever. His panic, his fear, his yelling at Saki to call an ambulance before Kadota interjected. It was an emotional blur after that, although Saki vaguely recalled all of them piling into the van, the weight of Mikado's head in her lap, Masaomi's and Erika's efforts to staunch all that blood. Someone had called ahead, so the paramedics were waiting and ready outside the ER when the group pulled up. The waiting after that had been harder.

She watched Mikado now as he thought her words over, his features hard to read. He appeared more collected than before, at least.

"But it's not just about him, you know," Saki admitted after a moment. "You always sounded like an interesting person, Ryuugamine-kun. I've wanted to meet you."

"Ah..." Mikado finally smiled, but apologetically. "Masaomi must've exaggerated again. I'm... nothing special."

Tilting her head, Saki fixed him with a look that was too warm to be skeptical. "He didn't tell me all of your secrets or anything, but I know enough about you to say that's not true. But... you're probably just being modest. He did say you like to beat yourself up -- so much that he's always thought you might be a masochist."

"That--!! No! I'm--! Like he can talk!" Mikado snapped, turning red. Saki put a hand to her mouth as she laughed this time, and he instantly looked ashamed as well as embarrassed. "S-Sorry," he said, having lowered his voice again. The color in his face lingered. "Um -- but really, what... else did he say?" he asked, but hesitantly, as if uncertain whether he really wanted to know.

"Mm... just everyday stuff." Saki straightened her legs out and looked down at her shoes, emphasizing that she hadn't exactly memorized his business. "You were friends in your hometown, you went to Raira together... and about your relationship with Sonohara-san." She glanced up as she saw him stiffen, a shy and weary look crossing his face.

"That... was almost definitely exaggerated. Or at least inaccurate," he assured her, his face gathering heat again. Saki couldn't help a small "hee" of amusement, or thinking that he was kind of cute when flustered. That would have definitely sounded patronizing, however, so she kept that much to herself. She really had looked forward to finally meeting him, and she didn't want to get on his bad side while he was likely in less of a mood to make friends. The only reason she dared to joke around this much was because Masaomi insisted she be herself around him, and not to walk on eggshells around the trio. That wasn't what Mikado needed, he'd assured her.

With that in mind, she studied Mikado openly for a few seconds. "...I think we already have a problem," she announced.

"Eh...?" Mikado turned serious again, looking perturbed.

"I like you a lot better when you're mad than when you're upset, so I'll probably like you even more when you're in a good mood... but I'm not sure what to say to make that happen." Saki's smile was positively catlike as she deduced, "So, I might just have to keep saying embarrassing things to make sure you stay mad -- and then maybe Masaomi can tell me the secret to putting you in a good mood."

That was probably a hit-or-miss shot, she was aware, but from what she'd seen of him so far, it seemed like a safe gamble. While Mikado looked utterly at a loss for a couple seconds, he did, sure enough, quickly break into a nervous smile.

"Ah -- um -- n-no, no, that's okay. I won't get upset again, honest."

With pretty good timing, Saki felt her cell vibrate. A quick glance said it was from Masaomi. "Ah! That's him now. He says he's on his way." After shooting him a quick text in reply, she clicked the phone shut and tucked it away again. She looked up to find Mikado watching her, but as soon as their eyes met he averted his own. Saki didn't shy away. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing. I mean, ah..." He seemed to rethink giving such a rushed response. "...I just... I was just thinking that... Well, Masaomi never... mentioned you directly. You said before that I'm different from what you expected, but... I guess I never really thought about what to expect if I met you, exactly."

"Are you surprised?"

Saki expected another nervous reaction, but Mikado actually seemed to weigh the question seriously. "...Kind of?" He frowned, but thoughtfully. "But not really. You seem..." He trailed off and glanced over, uncertain.

"I seem what?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Ah... um... please don't take this the wrong way -- but you... really remind me of him. Parts of him, anyway."

That earned a chuckle. "Why would I take that wrong?"

"We... _are_ talking about the same Masaomi, right?" Mikado's smile was a little crooked, but it looked comfortable and earnest -- it looked real, for the first time that Saki had seen. Her giggle was equal parts happiness at that fact and amusement at his (good) point.

"So you're saying we deserve each other."

"Um -- that makes it sound kind of... harsh, I think." Mikado rubbed the side of his neck, that wry expression fading. "More like... I think you're both lucky. To have found each other and everything."

That was unexpectedly... sweet. No one had ever really given the pair their approval; Saki had caught the looks and attitudes of the other Yellow Scarves members back in the beginning, and Izaya's encouragement had only ever been selfish. Even if neither Saki nor Masaomi had ever wanted or needed anyone to give their blessing, it was still a little touching to have something like it, and from the best friend of all people.

Saki's smile softened and she even colored a little herself, but it was pleased, not embarrassed. "Thanks. I'm glad you think so." There was another short pause, and then she added, "I was right." Mikado blinked. "I like your good mood the most. Do me a favor, Ryuugamine-kun -- please smile more, when you can. Masaomi and Sonohara-san would like it."

That in itself prompted a shy smile as Mikado nodded. "Y-Yeah..." He turned his eyes ahead, to the window across the room. Even though he was still leaning back, that solid look put an air of something like confidence around him, or maybe peace. "I think... it'll be easier now."

They talked for a while more, smalltalk and casual topics since Mikado was the most at ease with them. He was the opposite of Masaomi in a lot of ways: soft-spoken, self-conscious, more rigidly polite... If Saki didn't already know that he was her age, she probably could have mistaken him as being several grades under her, going by his mannerisms and his young face (minus the cuts and bruises). She had to wonder how someone like him could have gotten mixed up in so much -- although she had no right to talk if appearances were the only criteria. Even so, he came off as being surprisingly normal, and even without Masaomi's bias she would have found it hard to believe that Mikado wasn't at least partially the kind, unassuming guy he came off as being. There was something... sincere about him, forward and unguarded and kind of naive.

Compared to Masaomi's and even Izaya's typical behavior, it was... new, or at least different.

The conversation gradually wound down, their words becoming fewer and farther in between, and eventually they fell silent. Saki was comfortable with it, so she didn't pressure him to keep talking; she gazed out the window some more, content to let Mikado rest as he wanted, but he was actually the one to speak up before too long.

"So is... are Masaomi and Sonohara-san really okay? After everything that happened..." He looked troubled again, watching the wall instead of Saki. She studied him before answering.

"Why not ask them yourself?" she suggested, her tone upbeat and not at all sarcastic. Mikado exhaled -- not quite a laugh -- and the corner of his mouth twitched, but grimly.

"Even if he isn't... Masaomi would still say that he is. I don't know if he's more honest with you about that kind of thing, or..."

"...It depends." Saki folded her hands in her lap and thought about that. In the end, however, she only answered with a question. "What about you? Are you really okay?"

Mikado didn't respond, or even so much as move.

"...Mm, sorry. That was kind of personal, wasn't it?"

"No... It's fine. I'm okay, now... I just don't know if they'll believe me."

_Believe, or forgive?_ Saki wondered. Out loud, she said, "I think they already know. They wouldn't look so happy if things were still foggy. Weren't they happy when you saw them?"

Mikado's gaze came a little more into focus. "...Yeah," he said slowly. "They were."

"Then there you go." She leaned to the side a bit this time, as if trying to see Mikado from a new angle. "I don't know Sonohara-san very well, but she seems pretty honest. As for Masaomi... don't worry." She shrugged again. "You've known him longer than me, so I don't think my opinion matters much when it comes to you two. But... as long as you talk to him, you'll both be okay. He won't let it end any other way, you know?" She knew Masaomi plenty well enough to say that -- and she'd been by his side as he sat through that first night in the hospital lobby, waiting for word of Mikado's survival. It had spoken volumes about what she'd already known:

As long as Mikado was willing, things would work out. Saki was sure of it.

She didn't get a reply right away; Mikado continued to stare thoughtfully off to the side, and she was soon convinced that he wouldn't say anything more until Masaomi arrived, which would probably be any minute now.

When he did speak again, he surprised her a little. "...Please don't think that." When Saki only blinked, Mikado looked at her and smiled again, politely. "Your opinion does matter, I mean. You're close to Masaomi, so... I'm glad you feel like you can be honest with me. I'd..."

He gave a slight, shy bow of his head as if to hide that self-conscious color in his cheeks, rubbing his wrist absently, but there was still a glimpse of an earnest expression there. "I'd... like to do the same. Or... I guess I should say that I'd like to feel the same."

"You can be as honest with me as you want, Ryuugamine-kun," Saki assured him, a small note of fondness in her voice. It was a nice feeling, being trusted. Still, there was a double message there if he caught it: he was free to say what he wanted, but only as much as he was comfortable with. Then, lightly, she threw in, "You don't seem like the brutally honest type, but I can take it if you are."

Mikado's smile grew a bit, but only briefly, and again he looked distracted. "It's not that... Ah... It's just..." His mouth evened into a serious line. "...I said 'I'd like to feel the same' because... it... it feels like a long time since I really... trusted anyone. I mean, I trusted some people, but for the wrong reasons. Looking at it now, I don't think that's really 'trust' at all."

This was something pretty personal; his expression said as much, but more than that was the indication that it dealt with what he'd been through recently. Even without knowing all the details or having a previous impression of Mikado to compare her current one to, Saki did have every reason to suspect that he'd gone through some truly terrible things, a lot of them inwardly-speaking... So for him to confront them already, he really did seem serious about what he was saying. About wanting to trust someone.

Maybe he actually was into brutal honesty, after all.

Nothing about Saki's response hinted at her serious thoughts, because she was casual and cheerful, even a little emphatic as she told him, "It sounds to me like you're already trying. But if you need more time, I don't mind waiting."

She met his surprise with a smile, of course, and was silent, letting him put that together and consider it. She watched as his gaze fell back into neutrality for a pause, the look almost seeming to search for something that Saki couldn't see. Maybe he was thinking over her words, maybe he was evaluating himself, maybe this choice was more personal than she had realized... For someone who was already torn inside over his friends, maybe the offer of making a new one, however good the intentions, was just too much for him right then. If it was, then Saki would do as she'd intended before: back away, avoid getting between the three of them, and let them work things out before she officially entered the scene. Whatever the case, she would understand; as she'd said, she was patient. After waiting as long as she had for Masaomi to come around, anything and everything else was minor in comparison.

"...Okay."

Having spaced out a bit during her thoughts, Saki immediately refocused on Mikado. "Okay," he repeated. He glanced at her briefly and looked away again. "I'd... like to try."

It probably did sound like a matter of trust, and it was -- but not just in the way that Saki was thinking. Mikado had delayed answering for as long as he did because he was considering... no, he was committing, committing to the idea of trusting himself, as well. He was trying to decide if he could trust himself not to turn back, not to weigh this new connection -- or any after it -- like he'd been doing previously: on potential, or possibility, or worth. Just on the simple fact that this girl was reaching out to him, trying to help him in her own odd way.

Could he trust himself not to lose sight of that again?

Bringing himself to look at Saki, he studied her easy expression (as long as he could before that stare would become awkward) -- maybe it was her unassuming face, maybe it was the relief of someone else having forgiven him, maybe it was that glint in her eye that reminded him of Masaomi... or maybe it was Masaomi himself, the knowledge that he was still, even after everything, trusting Mikado to be around someone so important to him.

Maybe it was all of those things, or none, or more, but one thought occurred to Mikado right then, crystal clear through all the other clouding doubts he still harbored.

Could he trust himself not to lose sight of that again?

Trust wasn't the issue, he decided then and there. He was the only one controlling his life; every other person, every other factor, only went so far. Every choice he made was his own -- and now he was choosing.

"Okay," he heard himself say. "I'd... like to try."

Slowly, shyly, Mikado smiled again -- but it soon broke into a mild grin, as if he couldn't contain just how much lighter and better that single choice, this single new person in his life, had instantly made him feel.

"But... I'll do my best to keep you from waiting."


End file.
